


Gun

by orphan_account



Category: Real Person Fiction, Unus Annus - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Death, Ethan whump, Guns, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Killing, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Slash, Recurring Nightmares, crankiplier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25898983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The wound he’d expected to be there wasn’t, his fingertips meeting smooth skin, and the realisation finally seemed to set in that it had been a dream.He took one deep breath, then another. He was okay, he was alive, and he hadn’t been shot.Ethan took an hour to fully calm down, and another hour to fall back asleep.-OR-Ethan has recurring nightmares about a moment during filming for Unus Annus.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 9
Kudos: 252





	Gun

**Author's Note:**

> Based off that one bit it the "Harnessing Our Dogs' Unlimited Power" video where Mark presses the gun to Ethan's back and the safety isn't on

_ A click, then the distinct feel of a gun pressed to his back. Ethan felt the breath leave his body, muscles tensing visibly. _

_ “Is the safety on?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “You sure?” _

_ “...Maybe.” _

_ Ethan knew this memory, knew how it played out. He started to twist, ready to try and push the gun away, when he heard a shot ring out, and pain flared through him. _

_ His gaze flicked down, to the blood blooming from his stomach, and he raised shaky, rapidly weakening hands to try and cover the wound. Blood trickled between his fingers, and undoubtedly flowed from his back. _

_ “I guess the safety wasn’t on,” came Mark’s very nonchalant tone, followed by the tiniest, softest click. “There, it’s on now.” _

_ Ethan’s hands dropped from his stomach, too weak to hold them there any longer. Then his vision turned to black. _

//////

Ethan woke in a pool of sweat, in his bed, in his own house. He was breathing heavily, gasping for air, and his first instinct was to clutch at his stomach. The wound he’d expected to be there wasn’t, his fingertips meeting smooth skin, and the realisation finally seemed to set in that it had been a dream.

He took one deep breath, then another. He was okay, he was alive, and he hadn’t been shot. 

Ethan took an hour to fully calm down, and another hour to fall back asleep.

//////

_ The gun, pressed to his back. Ethan tensed, just slightly, at the cold, hard metal against him. _

_ “Is the-?” _

_ This time, he didn’t even get to finish his question. The gun went off, and Ethan was clutching at his gut before the pain even fully registered. _

_ “Oh  _ fuck _!” There was genuine panic in Mark’s voice as he dropped to his knees, hands pressing frantically to Ethan’s back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” _

_ Blood trickled between Ethan’s fingers, and all he could do was stare idly at it as Mark cursed and panicked behind him. He felt strangely calm despite his looming death, and just wished he could tell Mark it would be okay. _

_ His vision started to blur, and as he slumped forward, he felt Mark catch him. _

_ “Ethan! Ethan, damnit, answer me!” _

_ Ethan couldn’t muster any response, his vision turning to black. _

//////

Ethan bolted upright in his bed, chest tight, no air in his lungs. He scrabbled at his gut with panicked fingers, and, like the last time, was met with smooth skin. He took a breath in, feeling his lungs expand.

He couldn’t work out why this one moment from a video had affected him so much. Nothing had happened then, so why was he getting nightmares, over and over?

No answer seemed to fit, and Ethan settled in for another restless night.

//////

_ The same, familiar gun pressed to his back. Ethan was vaguely aware this had happened many, many times before. _

_ “Is the safety on?” _

_ “Yes.” Mark’s voice was void of emotion, and as Ethan opened his mouth to speak again, a gunshot rang out. _

_ Ethan’s hands were clutching tightly at his gut before even the faintest twinge of pain could register. He couldn’t breathe, and there was so much blood, gushing between his fingers despite his best efforts. _

_ With a gasp into the silence, Ethan’s vision turned to black. _

//////

This time when Ethan startled awake, he was met by Mark’s concerned face. 

“You okay man?”

Ethan batted Mark away in a panicked daze; where even was he? Hand flying to his stomach, Ethan looked around.

Mark’s house, that’s where he was, and soft, dying sunlight trickled through the windows. As he realised he’d had the nightmare  _ again,  _ he also remembered he’d been here to film- when had he fallen asleep?

“Ethan?”

Ethan turned to Mark, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Sorry for falling asleep. What were we doing again?”

//////

_ Ethan shook as he pressed the gun to Mark’s back. _

_ “Is the safety on?” _

_ “Yes,” Ethan found he replied, and his knees nearly buckled under him. _

_ “You sure?” _

_ “... Maybe,” Ethan said, then he felt his finger move, almost slip, and it was too late. The shot rang out, loud and clear, and Mark’s shirt began to stain red. _

_ “Oh fuck oh fuck.” All Ethan could manage to do was curse as he stumbled forward, clumsy hands pressed to Mark’s back, useless against the flow of blood.  _

_ “Mark, god, please, talk to me, say  _ something _ ,” Ethan managed desperately, but he didn’t get a response. Mark was limp now, and Ethan could feel the tears stinging at his eyes. “God, Mark, please…” _

//////

Ethan woke to a sunlit room, eyes stinging with unshed tears. He wiped angrily at his eyes, cursed softly as he realised he’d overslept by a long shot.

He took one shaky breath, then another. The dreams would end eventually. Until then, he’d simply endure it.

//////

_ Tears already sprung into Ethan’s eyes as he pressed the gun to Mark’s back. He let out the smallest sob, half-choked, but Mark showed no sign he even heard. _

_ “Is the-” _

_ A gunshot, like always, rang out. Ethan didn’t even bother trying to stop the blood this time. No matter what he did, Mark died; Mark  _ always  _ died.  _

_ Instead, he let the gun fall from his shaking hands, and dropped to his knees as he cried. _

//////

“Eth?”

Ethan’s eyes snapped open to Mark’s lounge room, the couch and its cushions soft beneath his touch. After a second, he realised he was crying, tears he’d shed in his dream transferring to the real world.

“Mark?” Ethan’s voice felt scratchy, almost sore, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long, long time. He slowly sat up, and then reached for Mark, his hand brushing lightly against the other’s shoulder.

Solid. Real.

It was enough to make Ethan fully break; the fact that this wasn’t a dream, that Mark was okay, and that he himself was okay, too. Mark’s hand came to rest gently on Ethan’s shoulder, a kind of gentle permission, and that was all it took for Ethan to launch himself at Mark, wrapping his arms around the other tightly.

“Jesus, Eth,” Mark murmured, gently running his hand over Ethan’s hair, a calming gesture that Ethan had learned to recognise as something Mark did when he was genuinely concerned.

Finally, Ethan pulled back with a sniff, wiping at his eyes with a hand. “Sorry, it was just a stupid dream…”

“You expect me to believe a ‘stupid dream’ got you that shaken up?” Mark fixed him with a hard stare, and Ethan had to admit his own words had sounded pretty weak, even to himself.

“Can we… not talk about it?”

“Okay.” 

With that, Mark bundled Ethan back into his arms, and Ethan clung to him, not sure when he’d ever be ready to let go again.


End file.
